


Consort In the Flames

by DezzieWinter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2013-03-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 05:49:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DezzieWinter/pseuds/DezzieWinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley isn't the King of the Crossroads for just any reason. Crowley gets to Dean before Alastair gets to get Dean to say yes. Dean takes Crowley up on his offer and love blossoms in the depths of Hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prologue of a work I am thinking of doing. This is part of what I have written so far.

The man lying on the table in front of him wasn't really a man anymore. His skin had been peeled off in strips one layer at a time. All of his muscles had been severed and then removed. His eyes gouged out and the lids cut off. Every bone in the man’s body had been broken into a million tiny pieces. Every follicle of hair had been ripped out and the man’s mind was perhaps broken even more so than his body. And yet everything was slowly fixing and healing. Even as he watched, he was able to watch in horrified fascination as the man’s muscles knitted back together, his eyes, eyelids, hair, and skin all grew back, and his bones snapped back together. It was macabre and the exact reason that he was not in this field. He couldn't stomach the work. He hated pain himself and even if he was a demon he couldn't stand to cause others extreme pain like this man had gone through over and over again. It made him sick to his stomach to see such a pretty man be hurt like this, but then again that’s how Alistair liked his sex slaves and he was so sure that’s what Alistair had in mind for this one. He was just Alistair’s type. Blonde hair, freckles, green eyes- oh so that’s what his eye’s looked like- muscled body, and tall. Those green eyes –what’s the name for that exact shade? I've never seen another color like it. It’s mesmerizing-looked up at him with tears gathering in the newly formed orbs. He knew the man was close to breaking, what Alistair had done to the man the last time was meant to tear him apart and make him give into Alistair’s demands. But he had gotten here first and he was going to take advantage of it. That was his job after all.  


“Please….make it stop….it hurts so bad. I’ll do anything…..anything at all….” He gazed down at the man and gently brushed his fingers against the man’s freckled cheek. He knew he wasn't all good. He knew he was a horrible person. A vain and prideful and arrogant person, hell he’d sold his soul for something that wasn't worth it. Had he really understood what the price would be, well he probably wouldn't do it again. He leaned down and kissed the tears away from form the bloody, bright raw pink skin of the man’s cheek. The man’s breathing evened out as he stroked a hand through the sweaty blond locks and continued to gently kiss the falling tears away.  


“I can make it all stop love. You just have to do a few things for me in return. All of this will go away. I promise you won’t hurt anymore. That the bastard, Alistair, will never ever hurt you again.” A small gasp came from the man and with fevered words he begged,  
“I’ll do anything! Anything you ask of me! Please just make it all go away! Please!” A small humorless chuckle escaped his lips and kissing the man gently on the lips he whispered,  


“Are you sure you’d do anything?” The man swallowed and nodded his head. He leaned up from the man and fixing his suit he snapped out a contract and undoing one hand restraint he ordered the man to sign it. Picking up the pen the man added his signature and he couldn't help but feel smug. He was going to enjoy this oh so well. He snapped his fingers and watched in pleasure as all the man’s pain disappeared and the man was fixed back to his original splendor. Those green eyes looked up at him and after undoing the other restraints Crowley ordered the other man to follow him. He smiled a bittersweet smile as he took one last look at the beautiful cursive signature on his contract.  


_Dean Hamilton Winchester_


	2. Chapter One: Effective Intensity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley lays down the law. Dean thinks about what he's had to do and what he's going to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter one to celebrate my exam this morning. Too early to be up. Hope ya'll enjoy. And because after last night's Supernatural I need some happiness. Still getting used to formatting here too.

Dean just stood there looking at the Demon he had followed. Hell even if he had to pay with his body it was better than what Alistair had done to him over and over again. And it’s not like Dean hadn't sold himself before. Hey, they’d needed money and it was the one quick way Dean could always provide it when Dad had ditched them and he needed money to feed Sammy. Not that he would ever tell Sammy that he’d sold his body for the food the kid ate. There were just some things that no one but Dean needed to know. The Demon (because he had yet to get a name from his savior and wasn't that fucked up) was pouring drinks and handed one to Dean. Dean took it and drowned it in one gulp. He was so thirsty and tried and sore. It was a relief to be here. The Demon gestured for him to sit down and Dean collapsed into the soft, plush, leather chair. And how was that even possible? Well right now Dean couldn't give a shit. He sighed as he sank into the softness and snuggled down into the chair. Again not that he’d ever admit it.  


“So Dean, here’s what’s going to happen love. You’re going to be my second in command, my secretary if you will. I’m the King of the Crossroads. Crowley. You and I will not go to any deals unless they are the big deals. Say if the President wanted to make a deal we’d do that deal. But every other old chum gets my servants. You don’t have to be my lover unless you want too. I know better than to force someone into my bed. However, you will respect me understand? I’m putting my ass on the line here interfering with Alistair and his work. If our Father was around there would be a 50 50 chance of him killing me or giving me a promotion. Neither are favorable, but as it is Alistair will try and kill me for this I’m sure. Good thing I’m hard to kill I guess. Now drink up and I’ll find accommodations for you love.” Dean studied the Demon, Crowley, and licked his dry lips. He had his pride to hold onto, but this was the demon that had saved him from Alistair. He’d gladly enter this demon’s bed if it kept him from Alistair’s. He did not want to become that demon’s plaything. He shuddered and followed Crowley out of his office and down a hallway into what appeared to be the demon’s bedroom. A big ass hell-hound was staring at him. He froze and darted quickly behind Crowley. Hell, he wasn't ashamed to admit that he trembled and cowered behind the demon. After what he had been through he doubted anyone would blame him for wanting to be protected.  


“Relax Dean, Growley won’t hurt you. He actually likes you. He carried you here, into Hell. Stopped the others from eating you and transporting you in their stomachs here; He won’t let anyone get near you that you don’t want near you. Growley will protect you. I don’t sleep much so you can just use my bedroom. I’m mostly at my desk over there during the nights. Go ahead and take a shower. It’s just through there.” Crowley gently pushed him towards the bathroom and leaned back into that touch. Dean was still afraid to admit it to himself, but under the first kind touch he’d felt in what felt like years, he was willing to admit that there was nothing that his Dad could do to him here. His Dad was nowhere to be found and perhaps now since he was in Hell, Dean could be honest with himself. Dean liked the way Crowley’s hand lingered on his back and as he drew his hand away how it swiped across his ass. Dean wanted to just give into what his Dad had always claimed would send anyone to Hell. Well he was already there so what did it really matter? Perhaps he’d see just what it would feel like to explore these feelings that he’d always denied when he was alive. After all, now that he was safe from Alistair, what was the worst that could happen?


	3. The Silvery World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is Dean?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is the next chapter. I'm posting this as a celebration for no more grad presentation! Thanks for all the Kudos. Also I need to figure out how to add paragraphs. Sorry.

Chapter Three: The Silvery World  


Dean shivered in the cold as he buried himself deeper into the covers. They were so soft and plush. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. His abused skin was thankful for the fluffy, silky, softness. The pillows must have been some kind of feathers and the sheets were the finest quality silk. The quilt was crotched out of soft yarn. It was warm and if one wanted to be warm in Hell then it would have to be. There was a small fire going in a fireplace and the smell of wood smoke was calming his nerves. It reminded him of when he had been about 5 and he was staying with Pastor Jim. It was about Christmas and it was cold. Dean had always hated the cold the most. He was wearing every piece of clothing that he owned when Pastor Jim found him shivering underneath his covers. He was crying silently because he thought he was going to die from the cold. That was when Pastor Jim had grabbed him and all his blankets and placed him on the couch downstairs. Dean remembers watching as Pastor Jim loaded wood into the fireplace and then striking a match. Dean had watched the flame in fasciation. With a little coaching it had sprung to life and warmed him up. He remembered that Pastor Jim and cradled him in his arms and read to him the story of King Solomon. Dean smiled because he remembered that he wanted to be just like that King from the Bible. He wanted to be as wise as that man.  


After his mother died, Dean didn’t believe in God anymore. But the people in the Bible and the angels always held his belief. He had always wanted to meat Gabriel. He wanted to ask Gabriel what Mary had been like and what the birth of Jesus was like. Did Mary sing to her son? His mother used to. He had hoped and prayed that baby Jesus had got to have a happy family with his mother and father and siblings since he had to die for everyone. Dean wanted to chuckle about how naive he had been. He wondered if Jesus had apprenticed being hung on a cross for sins he never committed. So many childish questions he had once had, but would never have an answer too. Who was he to question the ways of God? He was but a pathetic human that was in Hell. He had no right to know.  


What was Sammy doing right now? He wondered. Who was he without his family? It terrified him to find out. He had never been good at being honest. He wanted to be honest he did, but the truth terrified him. He had been this way for so long, so focused on family and not on himself that he wasn’t even sure where to start. He missed his little brother so badly. Dean felt so lost without his little Sammy. The little brother that his whole life had been focused around for so long and to think that Dean had once resented that same little brother. It didn’t seem fair that he had lost his mother at such a young age and that his father had abandoned them and forced Dean to take care of baby Sammy. He didn’t know who he was. Who was Dean Hamilton Winchester?


End file.
